Volan Aquilus
by Ichbingabbie
Summary: Altair was framed. All because he had morals. Now he's stuck playing these Gladiator games for all the noblemen. Rest of summary inside. AU
1. Prologue

**A/N: **This is a fill for the Gladiator Creed on the Kink meme.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything my friends

**Warnings: **Angst, blood

**Summary: **Altair was framed. All because he had morals. Now he's stuck playing these Gladiator games for all the noblemen. But he refuses to cooperate. They might as well kill him now. That is until he meets the enigma known as Malik. He might be his very downfall or make him the greatest man he ever was.

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_Prologue_

It was supposed to be an exhibition match. _That fucking Gaul!_ And now he is dead. There is blood everywhere. And he is dead. This was only supposed to be an exhibition match. _I will kill him!_ And now he is dead. The shouts ring out for order. The shouts ring out for justice. The shouts ring out for blood. His shouts. His screams. There is blood everywhere. _He must die!_ And now he is _dead_. Now there is more blood. His blood he thinks. Not the right blood. Never the right blood. It was supposed to be an exhibition match. Only to observe skill and nothing more. _Let go of me! _And now _he_ is dead. He can no longer feel his arm. He can no longer feel him. No longer feel himself. _I will have my revenge. Even if I die trying._ It was only supposed to be an exhibition match.

But then why is his brother dead?

_Kadar!_

The pain of getting his arm cut off is excruciating, but nothing will ever compare to the pain he felt when-

_Kadar._

His arm was made useless, so they had to remove it lest he die. They cauterize the wound. He writhes and screams in pain, the blue compassionate eyes of his friend are the last thing he sees before he passes out.

_I am sorry for your loss._

When he wakes, they tell him he could no longer fight, but the glory he brought to this ludus is the only reason he is alive. They say his coin, _their _coin, has been taken away to compensate the damage he has caused. It was only supposed to be an exhibition match.

_It does not matter. He was only a slave._

But he was my Brother.

_What is done is done. I have no power over the Seats._

He has been charge to man the armor, weapon, and whatever else the ludus may require from him. But he no longer wants to be here. He wants to die. What is there to live for?

_Revenge._

Oh, yes. That.


	2. Cogitatio

**A/N: ****Was definitely hitting some serious writers block guys. I would like to thank the people who reviewed. :] Good thing a couple of episodes of Spartacus and Glitch Mob got me through it! Tally-ho! **

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**COGITATIO**

**1**

"You are a fool." Altair looks up from his position on the cell floor. It was the one armed man again. For the past few weeks he has been bringing Altair food and water. The guard opened the cell gate to allow the man in. He sat the bowl and cup next to where Altair was sitting.

"I am a fool for refusing to play that man's game?" Altair scoffed. The man simply stared at Altair until he spoke, "You will die. He will not hesitate to kill you. It's better to do away with you then suffer the humiliation of not being able to tame a rabid dog."

"I would die by playing his games, would I not?" Altair asked. The man shook his head. "If you are strong, you will survive. Only the weak and prideful die quickly."

"Is it surviving when you let that beast of a man fuck you," Altair spat. He was and was not expecting the swift punch to his head. Altair yelped in surprised pain. That one arm certainly has power in it.

"Do not speak of things you have no knowledge of, you fucking novice," the man hissed. Once Altair's head stopped spinning, he noticed the man was already making a swift exit from the cell. Altair scrambled to the bars as the guard closed and locked the door. "Altair," he called. The man stopped his retreat. "My name is Altair Ibn La'Ahad and I am no fucking novice when it comes to surviving and knowing scum when I see it. The man is dead."

The man huffed and continued walking, "I do not care." Altair chuckled and went back to his corner. This was the first time they ever exchanged words. Altair drank his water and contemplated eating the slop they called food. It was true that his pride was getting in his way of submitting to a Master, but it wasn't his pride that got him here, it was his morals. It is also his morals that are raging at him to seek blood from the one known as Carnefice.

Altair wasn't in a cell in the beginning. He walked among the men that called themselves warriors and the new recruits such as him. In his first week of refusing to cooperate, he was chained to the wall of the training grounds in the summer heat. He used that time to scope out possible escape routes and any obstacles. In his observations, he usually hears mundane topics. Things like who will be featured in the next gladiatorial show, the house slave who became impregnated by one of the brothers, and also talks of many sex escapades. There was one in particular that caught his interest.

That beast of a man Il Carnefice, The Executioner, was boosting on how he showed the cripple his place. He easily overpowered him, he said. He bent him over his workbench, he said. Took him dry, he laughed. Showed that cripple his place, he said. He needed to be taken down a notch, no cripple was going to look down his nose at him, he growled.

If Altair wasn't chained to the wall, he would have ripped his cock off and shoved down his throat.

Before he could even act on his murderous thoughts, he was taken down to the holding cells until the Master decided on what to do with him.

"Guard," Altair calls. Said man turns his head to look at him, "tell your Master that I am ready to fight. I will play his games." _Until I find a way out._ The guard just snorted and turned back around. "Don't presume to order me around, slave." Altair resisted the urge to reach through the bars and snap the man's neck, but he just scowled and turned over to doze.

Altair was unceremoniously woken up with a kick to his ribs. The air whooshed out of him and he curled around his injured side. He scowled up at the guard that dealt him the blow, wanting to rip the smirk right off his face. "The Doctore wants to speak to you," he sneered. Altair followed the guard to the cell door and was met with the aging face of the Doctore, Bartolomeo.

"The guard spoke of your agreement to cooperate with us, is the true?" the man asked. Altair lifted his chin and amber met brown. "Yes," Altair simply answered.

"Are you sincere? You are not just pulling our legs? If you so much as think of trying some ploy, I will part your cock from your body and feed it to the birds," Bartolomeo threatened. Altair just stared at him and simply said, "I am completely at your mercy, Doctore."

Bartolomeo searched Altair's face. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it because he nodded and motioned the golden eyed man to follow him. They left the confining cell behind and ascended up some stairs. They made their way through a hallway aligned with rooms until they made it to another set of bars. They waited for the guard to open the door before they ascended up some more stairs and entered a different part of the grounds.

That approached a stately house and entered the place through an arched doorway. On the other side of the doorway, they were flanked by two guards and continued to walk through the opulent home of their Dominus. They traveled through a couple of winding hallways before they arrived in an office room and they were greeted with the site of their Dominus fucking a house slave. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the room. Altair's eyes were drawn to his Master and the woman behind his desk, rutting.

"What is it that you want?" the man panted.

"It's the new recruit, Dominus, he has seen reason," Bartolomeo answered, eyes averted. The man behind the desk stiffened and sighed. He tapped the woman on her ass and she removed herself from his body. The man clapped his hands and held one out waiting. A slave in a small toga rushed forward, eyes down and cheeks red, to hand the Master a piece of cloth. The young slave looked disturbingly like Altair, even the scar on his lip matched Altair's own.

The man wiped at his crotch and handed the cloth back to Altair's unconventional twin. Even their hair was similar, except his was a shade lighter. Altair's attention was brought back to the man behind the desk. He was finally allowed a good look at his Master, never seeing him before since he was purchased by an assistant or another trusted slave.

His dark hair just stopped short of his chin, there was a mole under his cold brown eyes, and his goatee wrapped around pink smirking lips. Altair narrowed his eyes. He knew this man. Not only was he a nobleman, but he was a Roman soldier, known for his viciousness on the battlefield and his deception in politics. Cesare Borgia, son of the Senator Rodrigo Borgia.

"So the rabid dog finally exposes his belly," his hoarse voice echoed around the room. "I have heard of the trouble you caused my Doctore, I hope to not hear of more. Not only will you be parted from your cock, but I will crucify you for the vultures and whatever the Gods will."

Altair bowed his head in submission, "Yes Dominus."

Cesare waved a dismissive hand, "Very well, get out of my sight. You will begin your training with the rest of the recruits at tomorrow's dawn." Both he and Bartolomeo intoned 'Dominus' before departing. As Altair was turning, he caught the eyes of his 'twin' and was met with warm brown eyes that flickered gold for a moment.

Maybe it was the trick of the light, Altair thought.

The next morning saw Altair on the spacious training grounds with the other recruits and gladiators. Last night was filled with the taunting and jeering from the other men, claims that they beat the fight out of him. No matter, their words were nothing but dust in the wind. Altair searched the training grounds for his intended target. He saw a flicker of gold from his left peripheral and turned to watch as the Executioner spar with the training dummy. Just as he was going to walk over there, and hand on his arm brought him up short. His line of sight was cut off then by the Doctore.

"You will begin your training with the logs, you will move on to some push-ups, and later you will start with hand to hand combat. I want to gauge your fighting level," Bartolomeo informed him.

Altair cocked his head to the side, "Why not test my skills now. I will have you know that I was trained in the way of the warrior."

Bartolomeo gave him an assessing look, "That may be so, but you still have to learn the ways of a gladiator. You also have been out of commission for some time, wouldn't you agree?"

Altair shook his head and looked the man in the eye, "Please, Doctore, let me prove my worth to you and our Dominus. I wish to show that coin was not wasted on me." Bartolomeo gave Altair a suspicious look before nodding his head, "Very well. Do not complain when you find yourself flat on your back in moments. I will have Alex go easy on you. He knows how to teach recruits."

Doctore began to motion at a man with dark hair and the brightest of blue eyes, before Altair stopped him, "No Doctore," he pointed to Carnefice, "I would have that one."

Bartolomeo gave him a bewildered look. Some of the men around them began to stop what they are doing. "You can not be serious. That man would destroy you and then you would be a waste of coin. He knows not how to teach, only to destroy."

Altair smirked a little, "Trust me Doctore, I can put up at least a decent fight." The man gave him another searching look before sighing. "Carnefice!" he called in a booming voice.

Everyone on the grounds paused in what they were doing, including the man called. "Attend!" Bartolomeo boomed again. The large man bounded up to them, "Yes Doctore?" his deep voice rumbled.

"This man here," he clapped a heavy hand on Altair shoulders, "wishes to test himself against you. To prove his worth, he says. You will fight with him hand to hand." The man smiled, slightly rotted teeth turning Altair's stomach. He wishes to the many Gods above, that he did not kiss the one armed man with that mouth.

The man backed up before crouching in a fighting position and Altair mirrored him, but instead his stayed in an upright position and bounced on the balls of his bare feet. By now, they collected quite the crowd. The brute went for a swipe at Altair's head, but he dodged. He dodged the next blow that was aiming for his jaw. At the next swipe at his head, Altair sidestepped and grabbed the man's outstretched arm. He brought his arm back and quickly snapped it forward, forcing the heel of his hand into the man's elbow and using the other arm to bend the man's arm back.

The crowd heard the satisfyingly sick crack of the man's arm breaking. As Carnefice screamed in pain, Altair quickly swept the man's legs from under him by bringing his legs forward and then back. He aided the man's fall with a hand to his back and his hand still holding his arm. When the man finally hit the ground, Altair released his arm and brought his leg up. He quickly brought his foot back down and stomped on the man's neck, hard. A brutal cracked rang through the silence of the ludus.

Altair stepped back and looked at the shocked eyes of Bartolomeo and the men around him. His golden gaze caught the dark widen eyes of the one armed man he did this for. He was standing on the edge of the training grounds with a blond and blue eyed man, whose hand was at his mouth. His lips curled slightly at the corners.

"Apologies, Doctore, I got carried away."

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	3. Principia

**A/N: ****I was totally on a roll with this chapter! **

**Chapter Summary: New Friend? Possible Lover? Usurpation? Evil plotting?**

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**PRINCIPIA **

**2**

Surprisingly, Altair didn't get into as much trouble as he thought he would. Unless you count being thrown in his cell, Cesare yelling at him and then slapping him in the face – "That man was supposed to be sold to a Magistrate in Capua and now he is dead! You will earn me my coins back you fucking imbecile!"- and then receiving 10 lashes as an over the top punishment. It wasn't as if he killed a good man worth living. He was then marched to the Medicus that Cesare owned for the Gladiators. Altair and the guards flanking him entered a room filled with supplies and scrolls. Some scrolls had sketches of men in various positions; some were even sketches of entrails. Altair's eyes were drawn to a slight man with blond hair and blue eyes that lit up upon seeing him. He was the one Altair saw standing next the one armed man.

The man instantly stood up, a worried expression on his face. "Come! Come! Sit down here," the man motioned to a cot. Altair sat, exposing his back to the Medicus. Altair heard the man hiss, words of displeasure coloring his language. "I do not see why you were punished for what I saw as a good deed," the man murmured quietly.

"Apparently he was meant to be sold," Altair rumbled, hissing as the man went to work on his wound. The man huffed, "Of course, otherwise I do not believe you would have received lashes." That lapsed into an easy silence.

The man spoke again, "I must thank you for assisting Malik. It seems as if after his accident, no one showed him respect or compassion. I may very well be his only friend," the man finished sadly. Altair scowled. _Accident? Must involve his arm. _The man continued, "It is as if he does not care much for his well-being either. Ah! Look at me rambling. You are way too easy to talk to. What is your name, if you do not mind me asking?"

"Altair," he answered, "and you?" The man began putting a salve on his back before he answered, "Leonardo," he told Altair, coming into view. He wiped his hands on a cloth before holding out his hand. Altair reached for him and the both clasped forearms, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you." Leonardo said.

Altair lifted a brow, "Finally?" Leonardo blushed and looked away, scratching at his goatee, "Well, you see…I have heard about you from the others! That is it. I-I have heard much talk of you, Altair."

Altair narrowed his eyes. He is lying. It was painfully obvious.

"Ah! Your hand!" Leonardo exclaimed, grabbing Altair's left hand. "What happened to your finger?" Altair narrowed his eyes and leaned close to Leonardo's face, expression very serious.

"Do you want to know?" Leonardo looked confused.

"Yes, that is why I asked."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes! I do!" Leonardo exclaimed, looking excited. Altair searched his face and sat back.

"Then you have to guess," Altair said with a smirk. Leonardo's jaw dropped and then he smiled.

"Oh! A mystery. How exciting!" Altair chuckled and shook his head. The man was like a child. Just then the guard saddled up beside them, glowering at Altair. "Come on. I am taking you back to the others." Altair grunted as he stood, following the guard out. "I hope to see you soon!" Leonardo called. Altair turned and bowed slightly. "Thank you for healing me, Medicus."

Leonardo blushed and looked down, "It was no problem. Uh, say hello to Malik for me, yes?" Altair smirked and nodded as the guards ushered him away. _So his name is Malik. What a strong name._

_

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_

Early morning found Altair in the room where the other gladiators dine. It was located right outside of the training grounds and large enough to hold fifty odd numbers of men. Altair ignored the jeers and heated whispers of the others. They all flickered between, grey, blue and red as his eyes quickly surveyed the area. His eyes fastened to a shade of gold at the back of the room. As he walked forward with his bowl and water, one of the men tried to trip him.

Altair's elbow snapped out on reflex, and imbedded itself in the man's face. Altair glared at him as he cried out in pain, grabbing at his nose. Another, who was across from him, instantly stood up and moved as if he was going to vault over the table. He was stopped by an arm across his chest. Altair followed the arm to the dark haired and blue eyed man from before.

"Alex," the man growled.

"Ugo had it coming, Antonio," Alex rumbled. Altair raised his eyebrows and nodded his thanks. Alex just continued to stare at him. It was off-putting, but he glowed a faint blue so he let it slide.

He continued walking, acutely aware of the many eyes on his person, until he made it to the table where Malik sat alone. He studied the man. He wore a short robe with the left sleeved pinned to his shoulder over a knee length toga. He was studiously ignoring Altair, even as he sat down across from him. They ate in silence until Altair spoke.

"_Safety and peace, brother_," he said in Arabic.

"_Your presence deprives me of both_," Malik answered, "and do not call me brother. You are no brother of mine." Altair just smiled.

"I do not believe you told me your name." Malik snorted.

"Do not take me for a fool. I know you talked to Leonardo. Words dribble from his mouth unheeded."

Altair just smirked, "But I would like it if you introduced yourself instead." Malik looked up from his food and glared at Altair. Altair studied his face up close and found the man handsome, beautiful even. His eyes were dark blue, his nose slightly hooked, and with rich dark skin. He had a dark patch of hair on his chin with stubble upon his cheeks; his lips were full and currently pulled in a thin line of irritation.

By the Gods, Altair wanted to throw him over the table and fuck him stupid.

Altair took a sip of his water to parch his suddenly dry mouth. "So does that mean no, even if I helped you?" Altair croaked. Malik looked away and studied his food.

"I did not need saving. He was departing from this place."

"Yes, and another man would have taken his place."

Malik slammed his fist onto the table, "I am not a woman that needs saving," he hissed, "I am not so weak as to let that happen again."

"As long as you need saving, I will be there."

Malik glared, face turning darker, "Why did you do it? So you could take his place? I would rather die."

Altair glared back, "Why take, when I could just ask?" and he immediately wanted to take those words back. This is not how he wanted their talk to go. Malik abruptly stood, "Fuck you!" he spat.

Altair smirked, "If you want." Malik threw his cup at Altair, "You arrogant ass," he hissed then stomped away. Altair sighed and drained the rest of his water and left his bowl of food there. He was suddenly no longer hungry. He stood and made his way to the training grounds to begin his official training.

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Training was a challenge to say the least. He and the other recruits ran several laps around the training grounds as the other gladiators sparred. They then moved onto some muscle builds: lifting up blocks, push-ups, sit-ups, wall squats and so on. They were given a quick lunch break, and then moved onto some hand to hand. Altair continuously beat his opponent, much to the embarrassment of the other man.

Bartolomeo cracked his whip to get the novices attention. He then paired them off with each other with sword and shield. Altair was the only one left out. "You will be training with Alex, our current champion. I wish to see what other skills you have." He handed Altair his sword and shield and directed him to the aforementioned man.

As they begin sparring, Alex is quiet, only speaking to direct Altair on how to exaggerate his moves. "These fights are supposed to tell a story. They are fanciful on purpose, but brutal in the grand scheme of things." So Altair began to exaggerate his swings, throwing his sword in sweeping arches in order to attack Alex, but he was having a little trouble with the shield. He wasn't use to having something in this hand. Altair was swept with a sense of nakedness; his treasured weapon was lost to him.

"After you swing, make sure you bring your shield up," Alex instructed, "you leave yourself open to attack." Altair nodded and they began again.

"Did you know that you look like this house slave I know?" Alex asked. Altair nodded.

"I have seen him. It is surprising." Alex snorted, "What's more surprising is that there is another man who looks like the both of you as well." Altair raised his eyebrow, blocking a blow with his shield. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Alex answered, "he is a Senator's son. I believe his name is Ezio. He was there for one of my fights. Desmond was attending to Dominus. That is the house slave's name."

"And you know this house slave, Desmond, personally?" Altair asked. Alex blushed and nodded much to the other man's amusement. The silence was interrupted by Altair this time.

"When do I begin my first fight? I know Dominus wishes for me to repay him." Altair parried a blow aiming for his left side.

"I do not know," he answered, dodging a swipe to his head, "Your circumstance is different. Usually you wait until after you receive the mark of the Brotherhood."

Altair narrowed his eyes at that. _Brotherhood, huh. _Altair side stepped a jab and twisted around to hit at Alex's back. The blow sent him to the ground. Altair was going to deliver a kick to his side, but Alex quickly dropped fully to the ground and rolled gracefully to his feet. He crouched low, smirking at Altair.

"They gave you a name, you know." Alex informed him. Altair began mimicking him. "Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes," Alex answered, "they were going to call you Aquila, but they decided Aquilus sounded better, more masculine." Altair raised his eyebrows. _How oddly close to my name. _As far is he knew, Cesare and Bartolomeo didn't know his real name. Due to his distractive thoughts, Alex blitzed him; he scrambled to block the powerful blows of Alex's wooden practice sword. Altair wasn't prepared for the blow to his face from Alex's shield. He staggered, before standing upright. He narrowed his eyes at Alex. The man just smirked, "Do not lower your guard."

Altair spat blood to the ground, his lip was busted, but no teeth were loose. He threw his shield to the side and crouched down low. Little did they know, they had gathered a couple of on-lookers. Altair feinted to the side causing Alex to drop his guard on one side. Altair quickly spun to Alex's unguarded side and swept the man's feet from under him with his practice sword. He followed the swing into a twist and flipped the sword downward. As he faced Alex again, he brought the sword down into a stabbing motion over his chest. He stopped short over the man's pectoral, right above his heart.

They paused there, breathing heavily through their noses. Altair's eyes shined gold and his nostrils flared while Alex's eyes shined a sliver blue and a smile stretched across his face. They were both startled by the crack of a whip and Bartolomeo's voice.

"That was exceptional, Aquilus. Now, both of you join the other's for a quick break. Altair, I want you back out here with the other recruits when it is over. You still have work to do." Altair helped Alex up and they both intoned, "Yes, Doctore." As they were walking back to the building, Alex clapped Altair's shoulder, "I will not be surprised if you continue to best me and become the new champion of Praeneste, but I will not make it easy." Altair chuckled. _We will see_.

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"So," the man began, "did you acquire the Eagle?" Cesare chuckled.

"Of course I did," he answered, "you were correct. The man is exceptional. Altair Ibn La'Ahad."

"Yes. That is why he will be perfect for our plan. He is already playing into our hands. If you let him think he has control, he will work better for you."

Cesare chuckled, "And you would know, would you not. Seeing as you were his Master before, Al Mualim."

Said man smiled, "That boy only knows how to serve and his is predictable. That is the only reason why it was so easy for him to fall within our trap."

"Now he will fall within our plans," Cesare popped a grape into his mouth, "Giovanni Auditore is a dead man."

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**Reviews, yes?**


	4. Bestia

**A/N: **I had a crap load of AB's to do and it took up my writing time. Thank you all for the reviews! :]

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything my friends

**Warnings: **Violence, blood

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**BESTIA**

**3**

"Ah! I have another one. It was hacked off by a spurned lover, who decided to take your most loved finger, instead of your genitalia. They caught you in bed with another and saw you using that finger and they thought, 'Oh, I will teach him a lesson!' So while you were sleeping, they wrapped it in a cord, to cut off the circulation, and they chopped it off! Am I right?"

Altair didn't know whether to laugh or be horrified, so he settled with rolling his eyes, "No, Leonardo. Although, that is an interesting tale you have spun. How did you think of it?"

Leonardo just shrugged, "They just come to me. One of these days, I will get it right." Altair shook his head and continued to put on his loincloth, having just finished bathing when Leonardo bounded into the washroom. Alex saddled up next to him just as Leo left, being beckoned by a guard.

"What is going on between you and the Medicus? I can no longer recall how many times he has approached you." They left the washroom to join the other brothers for some down time, gambling, talking, and playing games. Altair shrugged, "He just wants to figure out how I lost my finger." Altair brought his left hand up to Alex's face.

"Ah. I have wondered that myself." Altair just smirked.

"You have to guess."

Alex scoffed and punched Altair in the shoulder. Altair chuckled and watched an ongoing game. Leonardo has been trying to guess at how Altair lost his fingers for weeks now. He never thought the man would take this mystery so seriously, but Altair found the scenarios quite amusing.

For several weeks, Altair continued to learn the ways of the gladiator. Learning how to execute exaggerative moves, fight with gladiatorial weapons (he didn't like using the nets), and now he was better at using the shields.

"You continue to fight like that," Bartolomeo had told him, "and you will be fighting in the arena in no time." He didn't know exactly when he would earn his mark, but he knew earning that mark was another step out of here.

Altair and Alex had become fast friends, always training together and trying to best the other. Some of the others have warmed up to Altair, including him in on jokes, games and stories. The boy who had tried to trip him, Ugo, had apologized for his transgression, saying it was an accident. Of course it was. Antonio still shared a certain dislike for him, distrusting him. He was a smart man. There was another man, Rauf, who is a Syrian and he is constantly kissing Altair's ass.

He was also a recruit and constantly praising Altair's skills. He was starting to become suspicious of the man.

Now, the situation with Malik hasn't been as easy. They man avoided him as if he were some plague. He refused to talk to Altair, let alone sit with him. Every time he would make his way towards the one armed man, he would get up and storm away. It has gotten to the point that Malik wouldn't even show up. He couldn't even find the man during his free time. He asked Alex one time what it is Malik does.

"I no longer know. There was a time he attended to the armory, but no longer. I know not what he does, but I believe he works alongside Dominus," Alex had answered.

Altair was beginning to get frustrated with the man. Couldn't he just appreciate what he did for him and maybe let him sleep with him? No, that was a bit crass and highly unlikely. Altair has been taking his sexual frustration out on the others during training. Never before had a man affected him like this.

He's musings were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. His golden eyes travelled up from the hand to its owner. A guard.

"Dominus has summoned you, slave." Altair looked up to see that Alex was already making his way to the exit with another guard and Altair moved to follow. _What is this about_? They travelled through a set of different hallways from last time. This time, Altair paid attention. The walls were covered in tapestries of red and purple velvet. Golden cords criss-crossed here and there. The floors were a black marble, speckled in gold with hints of sliver. The walls were a white marble and so were the different bust sculptures that lined it. Paintings adorned these walls as well, some of battles and others telling stories of times long ago.

Altair could appreciate architecture. This place almost reminded him of the castle of his hidden home. He and Alex entered a room that had a shallow pool in the center. The awning over the pool was laced with sheer curtains and on the other side was Cesare, along with Malik, Leonardo, Doctore and some strange man with expensive robes and who flashed a bright red.

Altair's heart thudded in his chest when his eyes caught the cold dark blue of Malik's. The man's arm was burdened with scrolls. Leonardo himself had a handful as well. What shocked Altair was the completely serious expression on the man's face. He wasn't so surprised when he noticed the stranger had the house slave, _Desmond_, in his lap and stroking his thighs. Desmond looked highly uncomfortable and he blushed in shame when he saw them come in. Altair chanced a sideways glance at Alex, only to find his face stony and his eyes that eerie silver-blue.

"Ah! They have arrived." Cesare stood up from his chaise, lips curled into a smirk. "Vidic here," he pointed to the man that currently had his hand under the skirt of Desmond's toga, "has told me that Uberto Alberti wishes to test my gladiators against his champion. His man has won fights in Capua, even in Roma. I wish to crush this man." Cesare walked around the pool towards them, his lavish gold and red robes dragged across the ground as two slaves trailed behind him.

"They say," he continued, "his gladiator has brought down several men at once, cleaving them in two with his ax." He stopped in front of them, eyes gleaming with violence.

"He is called the Berserker, a wild beast from the North, and you will fight him Aquilus. It will be your debut and just to make sure you do not die, Zeus shall help you."

"But Dominus, he has yet to receive the mark," Doctore stated, unsure.

Cesare just scoffed, "I am well aware of that. It does not mean I care. He will fight." Cesare stepped away from the men and made his way back to the others. "Prepare yourselves, you fight tomorrow."

Both men nodded, "Yes, Dominus." Cesare waved them away and the guards began to lead them back to the ludus. Altair looked back; Leonardo and Bartolomeo looked worried, Desmond continued to look at the ground, his bottom lip caught in his teeth, and Malik had a slight furrow to his brows.

However small the expression, it made Altair feel optimistic about his pursuit of Malik.

* * *

News spread of Altair's and Alex's impending fight against the Berserker. They both ate a good meal that night, listening to stories about a gladiator that never lost a fight, who ripped his opponents in two and left a trail of bodies around the arena. Many of these stories were highly exaggerated. Especially the one where Neptune himself caused an earthquake during the man's survival match and the earth crumbled beneath his feet.

Altair wasn't worried at all. In all actuality, he was positively thrilled. The thought of engaging such a man in a life and death battle was ridiculously exciting. It has been too long since Altair bloodied any blade. With Alex working with him, they will make quick work of this Berserker. Speaking of Alex, where was he? Altair did notice the man was not with him while he ate. When asked, the others said they had not seen him either. Altair walked through the sleeping quarters; he had already searched the Champion's hut. He was just nearing the gates that led to the man ground when he heard murmuring.

Altair slowed and crouched down, his bare feet barely making a sound on the stone ground, dusted with dirt. He pressed his back against the wall and peeked around the corner. He saw two sparks of blue before he saw that it was Alex and some other man. He looked closely and noticed that the other person was Desmond, his "twin."

The house slave looked like a kicked pup. His head was down, eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes looked up imploringly at Alex.

"Did he do anything else to you Desmond?" Alex asked through clenched teeth. He sounded as if he had asked this question more than once. Altair watched as Desmond looked away, biting his lip and tugging at his toga.

"No." he mumbled, "Cesare did not let it get that far. You know he is aware that I am yours, just as you are mine. It was the deal, remember."

Alex sighed, shoulders sagging, "I know that, but that does not make me less upset. I hate it when people touch you like that. I hate not being able to protect you."

Desmond brought his hands to Alex's face with a soft smile, cupping each cheek, "I know and I am sorry."

The man took a deep breath before enclosing Desmond within his arms. Desmond quickly brought his arms up and wrapped them around his shoulders, his face buried in Alex's shoulder. They stood like that for a while, murmuring words, that Altair choose not to here. It was when Alex went for a kiss that Altair stepped away from the wall and began making his way to his room.

* * *

The next day, Altair and Alex were outside, strapping their gear on. Altair wrapped the Manica on his sword arm and the Fascia around his legs, just like he was taught. He put a helm on his head and strapped a Balteus around his waist and put his sword in its sheath. Unfortunately, he wasn't at a high enough level to gain breast plates or nice protective armor; that was for seasoned gladiators and the Champion. At least he had a shield.

Alex on the other hand had a breastplate with lightning bolts etched into the metal, a beautiful short sword at his belt, leg and arm guards, a Spangenhelm and a shield. Alex smirked at him, silently laughing at his lack of protection.

"Do not fear, Altair, I will protect you. Malik would have my head if you died."

That last part confused Altair. Before he could as what he meant, Doctore collected them and sent them to the carriage where Cesare awaited. Desmond and Leonardo were already in the carriage and the trip was filled with Dominus telling them how important this battle was and that he hoped Altair did not die. As if his death would be a terrible annoyance. Once they arrived at the arena, they parted ways, the Doctore leading them down to the cages while Cesare made his way to his seats.

Both Bartolomeo and Alex seemed somber, but Altair was feeling giddy. He had heard of these shows, but never before did he think he would be a part of it. As they wait in the cages, listening to the thundering cries of the citizens from above, Altair thought back to what Alex had said. He jabbed said man in the ribs to get his attention. Alex scowled at him.

"What is it?"

"What did you mean by your statement earlier? Why would Malik kill you?"

The man smirked, "You have to guess." Altair rolled his eyes and was about to comment, but he was interrupted by Bartolomeo.

"It is time." The man said eyes dark and serious. Both men nodded and made their way to the arena's entrance. The war of the crowd was louder than ever here. The overwhelming stench of blood, sweat, and dead bodies made Altair want to gag. He had forgotten what the smell was like.

Suddenly the crowd went quiet and you could hear the echo of Cesare's distinct voice, shouting to the crowd.

"Today, wonderful citizens of Praeneste, I bring you your Champion, the bringer of Thunder and the slayer of Montanus, Zeus!" The crowd went positively wild as Alex slowly emerged from the tunnel and into the arena. He lifted his sword and shield and roared. His cry was drowned out by the answering cries of his fans and those who hated him.

Soon Altair heard them quiet down a little as Cesare continued to talk. "Now, I present to you a new gladiator to this arena. Some of you may know him as the man who swooped upon his enemies, like an eagle, and avoided his execution by stepping out as the winner! I give you Aquilus!"

Altair stepped out of the tunnel into the arena. His eyes were momentarily blinded by the sun and his ears were filled with the sounds of 'boos' and 'yays'. His gladiator sandals crunched on the ground of blood and sand. He stood next to Alex and looked out into the crowd. There were men and women of all nationalities and statuses. He could see men spitting, shouting, and fighting. Violence and malice morphing their faces. He could see women laughing, bearing their chest, and being fucked. He never saw women so vulgar before.

He looked to where Cesare stood, flanked by guards and slaves, particularly Desmond and Leonardo. They both looked terribly worried. He looked behind him to see Bartolomeo still standing at the tunnel, face blank and eyes dark. Altair looked back at the sponsor seats to see a fat man stand up, who was also flanked by guards and slaves. There was that man from before, Vidic, who sat next to him and a blonde woman on his arm.

They fat man walked took a step forward and raised his hands. _He must be Uberto Alberti_.

"I bring you, good people of Praeneste, a Champion from Rome, who knows no defeat. He has taken out a league of Gladiators with barely any injuries. He fought in front of the Emperor himself. I present to you…The Berserker!"

Both men turned to the opposite tunnel, where a beast of a man was emerging. He continued to stomp towards them, dragging a large ax, rusted with blood, behind him. The smell made it to them first before he did. It was rancid, like old meat and shit.

The beast hefted the ax up with one arm and settled the other end into his other meaty hand. He was huge, hairy, and smelly. He had trunks for legs, a barrel of a torso, his pecks strained against his skin, his arms were massively muscled and he was covered in course hair. His head was hidden by a helmet, but Altair was not too keen on seeing his face anyway.

He distantly heard someone shout 'Begin!' and the Berserker was already charging at them, roaring. The Thing swung his ax, aiming for both their heads. Alex leapt into the air and over the ax while Altair somersaulted under it. Alex's jumped landed him right in front of the beast and Altair ended up at his side. But the Berserker kept running and he ended up tackling Alex. As the man ran past him, Alex quickly got up and ran at the Thing's back. He slashed at its back, blood spraying across the ground. It roared and turned, bringing the ax with him. Alex ducked again. Altair ran forward and used Alex's back as a stepping stone.

He jumped from his back and landed on the man's chest and shoulders. He wrapped his legs around the Berserker's meaty neck. He tried to stab at the man's face, but he only managed to remove the Thing's helm. It was so ugly, he couldn't even describe it. Then he felt meaty hands grab his sides and slam him to the ground. All the air whooshed out of him. He expected another blow to come, but the hands released him. He looked up to see Alex slashing at its arms and sides, trying to get it to step back while Altair recuperated.

Alex was fast, his blows quick and devastating, but he wasn't large like this man. The Berserker grabbed his arm and punched him in the face, so hard that Altair wouldn't be surprised if it broke Alex's jaw. It then slammed Alex to the ground and lifted its foot up, intending to stomp on the man's head. Altair quickly got up and threw his shield to the side. He slammed into the Berserker's side; it was like running into a smelly, sweaty wall. He caused the distraction he wanted. The Thing grabbed him by the neck and slammed its fist into Altair's face. By the Gods, did it hurt.

He was dazed for a moment, and then he felt a punch to his stomach. He nearly threw up all that he ate this morning. He felt his neck being released and heard flesh meeting metal. The Thing roared. Altair fell to his hands and knees. He looked up to see that Alex had stabbed it in the side making it stagger backwards. Alex had blood on his face, most likely a cut from the blow he took. The beast grabbed the sword and yanked it out of its side, blood splashed onto the ground.

The Berserker was fast for a huge fucker. Its arm shot out and slapped Alex in the face, causing him to stagger and his sword hand lunged forward and stabbed Alex in the side and through the back.

Altair dimly heard the sound of someone screaming Alex's name. All he could hear was the blood thundering in his ears as he watched Alex fall. He could feel his heart pumping blood throughout his body. He felt his eyes shift and the Berserker glow a blinding gold. Altair let go of his sword and hopped to his feet.

It felt as if Time itself slowed down as Altair ran at the beast's back. He jumped on the man's shoulder, his knees squeezing its neck, and he cupped his hands and slammed them against its ears. The Berserker roared as its eardrums burst and shook Altair off. The eagle swept the imbalanced beast off of its feet by taking out the back of his legs with a kick. The Thing fell to the ground, kicking up sand and dirt.

Altair grabbed the Berserker's forgotten ax and used all of his body strength to bring it off the ground and up into the air, his muscles taut and skin shiny from sweat. He brought it down with a roar and effectively chopped the Berserker's head off, the face frozen in an expression of confusion.

All was silent in the Arena, except for the screech of an eagle that swooped down and landed on the handle of the ax that stuck up in the air.

Altair passed out to the sound of the thundering cheers, the crowd chanting his name.

_Aquilus! Aquilus! Aquilus! Aquilus_…

* * *

**Reviews, yes?**


	5. Quid

**A/N: The crossbow was invented sometime in the 5****th**** Century BC. I'm making it so Leonardo built a more efficient one, because those crossbows looked huge and cumbersome.**

**Chapter Summary: **Altair learns more about his favorite person.

* * *

**QUID**

**4**

Altair was greeted with an insult as he emerged from unconsciousness.

"How like a woman to pass out like that," a voice drawled to his left. Altair groaned and tried moving. He only moaned in pain as every muscle in his body protested. He felt as if a herd of bulls stampeded across his body. He slowly opened his eyes, the ceiling of the medical room coming into focus. He looked to his left, his neck stiff, and saw Malik sitting next to his cot.

Altair smiled tiredly, dry lips cracking, "Ah, what a beautiful sight to behold upon waking after such a harrowing ordeal." Malik scowled, but it did nothing to negate the angry flush that stole over his features.

"You must have truly injured your head if you are talking like that," Malik grumbled as he reached over to grab something. It was a cup of water. Altair slowly pushed himself up, wincing every now and then. Malik handed him the cup and he greedily drank its contents. It quenched a severe thirst he didn't realized he had. He sighed heavily once he drained the cup and handed it back to the dark skinned man.

"If it means my head must stay injured in order to see you as you are now, then I would gladly suffer," Altair stated.

Malik glared, his blush growing, "I am not some woman that you would say such flattering words too."

Altair smirked, "I know you are not, but such words will continue to fall from these lips."

"_You are insufferable_." Malik grumbled in Arabic.

"_Only for you._" Altair quipped. Malik looked as if he wanted to punch Altair, but decided not to. Besides, Altair inwardly smirked, Leonardo would just have a fit and it's more trouble than it's worth. Altair could remember the time he was faced with one of those fits when he lightly punched Alex in the chest, while the man was suffering from a dislocated shoulder.

Speaking of Alex.

"Where is Alex? What happened to him?" Altair asked anxiously. Malik nodded his head towards Altair's right side. "See for yourself," he mumbled solemnly. Altair turned and his breath hitched.

Leonardo was steadily moping Alex's feverish forehead with a wet cloth. The gladiator was shivering violently and his lips were cracked and bleeding in some spots. His eyes moved rapidly under his lids and he had a red flush all over his exposed body. He had a purple bruise blossoming on the side of his face and he was just a plain mess. Altair's heart clenched at the sight of a hunched over Desmond, his hand trembling as he brushed back Alex's hair. His eyes were puffy, his nose was red, and one hand gripped tightly to Alex's limp one.

"Desmond," Altair called softly. The house slave looked up, startled. "I am sorry."

Desmond gave him a watery smile and shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly, "Saving people is something that he likes to do."

"I apologize for not being strong enough."

Desmond shook his head, "It does not matter." He turned back to Alex, combing his fingers soothingly through his hair. Altair gave him a lingering look before he faced Malik.

The man had a strange expression on his face. "What?" Altair asked.

Malik sighed, closing his eyes, "You are a peculiar man." Altair was going to respond before he was interrupted by the Medicus.

"You lost it in combat."

"No."

"Damn," Leonardo pouted, "I thought I was really close this time." Leonardo set about checking Altair's wounds and bruises.

"Well," he sighed as he finished, "you came out the lucky one." Altair frowned.

"How bad is he?"

"He has bruises and a fever. I thought he had a broken jaw, but it is fine. That wound to his side is another matter. Luckily I was able to stop the bleeding before he lost too much blood and it is not infected. I sutured the wound but he is in a lot of pain and will not be fighting any time soon," Leonardo finished.

Altair sighed, "I see."

"That is actually why I am here," Malik mentioned.

Altair smiled, "You mean, you are not here to bask within my presence?" Malik gave him a deadpanned look.

"I am here," he continued, "to deliver a message from Dominus. You fought exceptionally, you have received payment, and you will receive the mark as soon as possible and will take over all of Alex's fights."

Golden eyes widen, "I do not understand." Leonardo gave a noise of disbelief.

"How could you say that!" he exclaimed. "You were magnificent! I have never seen a man fight like you before. Your style is most unusual, but highly effective. The crowd loved you!"

Altair's brow furrowed. He turned back to Malik, "So I receive coin whenever I win a match?"

Malik nodded, "Either that or you are dead. Depends on what type of match as well."

"How much," Altair asked, "and do I go retrieve it?" Malik shook his head.

"You only get as much as Dominus wants you too or how much he felt the fight was worth. You do not get it, Dominus holds it for you."

Altair frowned, "Then how much do I know I have?"

Malik smirked, "I know how much you have. So far, you have enough for wine and women."

Altair smiled, "I'll take the wine but can I have you?" Leonardo coughed into his hand, covering a laugh while Malik abruptly stood up, his face once again taken over by a blush.

"You are an ass!" Malik stomped away, cursing furiously in Arabic. Leonardo chuckled.

"I must be honest, I have not seen him like this in so long."

Altair nodded absent mindedly, thoughts on other things. How long was he out? Was Malik truly here just to inform him of his new status? Surely Doctore would have been able to tell him. What had Alex meant by what he said back at the Arena? What does Malik want from him?

"Why?" Altair asked quietly. Leonardo jumped slightly, breaking away from a daydream.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Why was Malik here? What does he want from me?"

Leonardo shrugged, "He does not frequently share his thoughts with me. What I can tell you is this." Leonardo paused and sat down at the edge of Altair's cot. He turned towards the man, expression serious.

"Ever since we saw you fight during your execution match, Malik has had an invested interest in you. He even went about convincing Dominus to take you and surprisingly enough, he did."

Altair's brow furrowed, "What function does Malik preform for Dominus, and furthermore, what do you do?"

Leonardo smiled, eyes alight with excitement, "Dominus found out that Malik has a skill for strategy and cartography. Malik knows about the many enemies of Roma and how they fight. He is like an advisor."

Altair wasn't at all surprised that Malik was such a smart man. _A strategist? How interesting. Could that mean he was a warrior of some kind before this?_

"As for me," Leonardo closed his eyes, grinning with a hand on his chest, "I am an inventor and a scientist. I am also an artist."

Altair's eyes widen in surprise, "An inventor you say. Would you mind showing me one of your designs?"

Leonardo put a hand to his chin looking doubtful, "I do not know. You are still injured and should be resting."

Altair shook his head, "I believe I will – "

"Okay if you insist!" Leonardo ran off like an eager pup. He dashed back in with scrolls in hand and deposited them beside Altair, picking up one.

"This here is one of my newest inventions. Dominus thinks it impossible to make, but nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it." The inventor then unrolled the piece of parchment and showed the gladiator a sketch of his latest instrument. There was an arrow and a bow attached to the end of a contraption. It looked like a crossbow, but smaller and no pull lever.

"See, I believe it would be more efficient if the crossbows we use were a little smaller and can be held in one hand. I made a different type of lever as well. Instead of pulling it from the top with your thumb, the lever will be smaller and under the bow where the index finger is located."

Altair smirked, "That sounds highly convenient, but I am curious. I thought you dislike war? By the gods, you do not even consume meat!"

Leonardo smiled sadly, "This is true. Dominus saw my sketches and demanded that I make more. He is paying me handsomely. You can only make so much coin being a Medicus and I am not well known enough as an artist."

The painter rolled up his scroll, "Cesare has been very helpful to me and he has taken me from a bad situation before. I was very close to becoming a prostitute, my friend."

Altair frowned, a little shocked by the news, "I understand." He picked up some of the other scrolls and scanned them. He found most of the sketches amazing and interesting. One of the inventions looked like a miniature cannon. _If he can make such arts of war, I wonder if he can help me_. Altair cleared his throat.

"You know, I am somewhat of an inventor myself." Leonardo eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes, there is one particular weapon that I was very fond of. The design is quite simple really, providing you make a certain sacrifice."

Leonard clutched his fists in his lap trying to contain his excitement. "What weapon do you speak of? If it is simple, maybe I can make it?" Altair gave Leonardo a playfully doubtful look.

"Are you sure?"

Leonardo scoffed, "Of course I am sure!"

"I see. Well then," Altair leaned forward and smirked, "do you want to really know how I lost my finger?"

* * *

That night, Altair received the mark of the Gladiators.

Plans were set into motion.

* * *

**Thanks for the Reviews gais! Can I haz moar?**


	6. Progressio

**A/N: So I had a huge case of the dreaded "Writer's Block" but I think I'm all better now. :]**

**I'm sorry guys for taking so long. I just couldn't get the chapter to go the way I wanted it to every time I attempted to write it. Thanks for all the reveiws and favorites. It's what kept me on this.**

* * *

**PROGRESSIO**

**5**

"What is this now? No kiss for good fortune?" Altair asked teasingly. Malik scoffed and went to go punch him in the chest. His fist was hindered by the breastplate Altair wore. He chuckled and quickly grabbed Malik's injured hand. He brushed his lips against the reddening knuckles before they could be snatched away.

Malik scowled and cursed in Arabic. He rubbed the back of his hand against his robes, a blush staining his cheeks. Altair laughed. This has become a routine. Ever since he replaced Alex and became a rising Champion, Malik would accompany him to the tunnel underneath the stadiums' seats. He would follow alongside Altair, Doctore behind them, and give him bits of information on the opponents he was getting ready to face.

When asked why he was helping, Malik replied, "I cannot have you dying on me, you imbecile. You're worth more than you know."

To which Altair replied, "Is this some kind of confession of love." Malik had rolled his eyes and punched him in the shoulder.

Before each fight, Altair would try to get a token of luck from Malik. Mostly he just wanted a consensual kiss from the man. Usually, before he'd walk out, he would brush his lips against Malik's cheek, forehead, or hand. Each time he was rewarded with a fist, kick, or a curse. Sometimes all three. Malik should expect it by now. Altair's been doing it for the past three months or so. Honestly, Altair believed Malik liked the attention.

Altair was brought out of his musing from a gentle shove against his armored back. He looked back to see Bartolomeo nodding his head toward the arena, silently telling him to go. Cesare must have just finished announcing him. Altair nodded and donned his Helm. He gave a last glance to Malik's scowling face and walked out into the arena. The thunderous cries of the crowd greeted him. The sun gleamed off his breastplate, the image of an eagle etched in metal. He raised his arms, his sword arm covered with his armor arm guard and his left arm was burdened with a bracer, where his hidden blade lies.

Altair wasn't at all surprised by how much of a genius Leonardo was. He followed the designs to the very last details and even added a couple of new features. He made it so one didn't have to sacrifice their left finger – "How dreadful! That is how you lost your finger? I think I liked my reasons better" – and he helped Altair with his poison darts idea. It helps to have a man who knows how to make poisons and the different kinds. "Leonardo, for a man of peace, you know too many ways to kill a man." Leonardo just shrugged then and kept tweaking the blade.

What did surprise Altair was how quickly Dominus acquiesced to the idea of Altair wielding the hidden blade. Altair would have loved to keep such a weapon secret, but he knew how foolish that was and he didn't want to get Leonardo into too much trouble. Cesare had actually stumbled upon the design while checking on Leonardo's progress of other weaponry. He thought Leonardo was the genius behind the design, but Leonardo quickly corrected that assessment and explained to him that Altair was the one to come up with the design.

When asked why he wanted the blade made, Altair answered, "Leonardo explained to me what he does for you, so I thought why not give such a design so that it may benefit you and possibly me in the arena." Cesare looked thoughtful, examining the weapon and its mechanics.

"I see no problem with it," he had said, "as long as it's only for the arena and other tasks if I should so desire." This of course made Altair highly suspicious, but he didn't argue and watched as Cesare took the hidden blade back to his home. He would only hand it to Altair once they got to the arena.

Earlier, when he was handed the weapon, Cesare gave him some instructions. "I want you to kill the man with this blade. I am entertaining the son of a Senator who enjoys intriguing weaponry and I want you to catch his interest."

Altair bowed, "Of course Dominus."

Now, Altair stood in front of his opponent, a man of similar build to him, tanned lean muscles. Malik had informed him that the man is named Il Lupo, also known as The Prowler. Il Lupo was dressed similarly to Altair except his breastplate displayed a picture of a howling wolf and he had no bracer. He had a handsome face with dark hair and eyes. It's a shame he has to die today.

Altair hissed as Leonardo swabbed over another wound. That man was good. The best Altair had fought in a while. Il Lupo had effectively disarmed Altair, but when he came in for the kill he wasn't expecting a blade to protrude from his throat.

As Leonardo began to suture his side wound closed, Malik walked in. "Leonardo, Altair, Dominus requests your presence as soon as you are done."

Leonardo's eyebrows rose. "Is this about the guest Dominus is entertaining?" Altair asked. Malik nodded, "Yes, the man is interested in you, your weapon, and the one who made it."

Leonardo smiled, "I will be done soon."

"Can I at least rinse the blood and grime from my body? I do not want to offend any noble's nose."

Malik sneered, "I am no noble, but you offend my nose and my eyes. Your very presence offends me."

"Continue to speak as such and I will throw myself at your feet for you to ravage," Altair smirked.

Malik scoffed, turning his head to the side. "You will not require your Gladiatorial armor, because this occasion does not call for such. You will just wear your best cloth."

Altair's brow rose, "You mean that red skirt you bought me?"

Malik scowled, "It is no skirt," then he smirked, "and I did not buy it with my coin. I used yours." With that, he began to walk out the medical room. "And it was not cheap," he called over his shoulder.

Once he disappeared Altiar chuckled and shook his head.

* * *

Altair and Leonardo arrived in Cesare's entertainment room, flanked by two guards. Upon entering he caught sight of the slave Desmond standing beside Malik. They were both standing behind Cesare, who lounged on his chaise, smiling amiably. Sitting across from Cesare was a woman and a man, who looked very much like Altair and Desmond. _This must be Ezio_.

The man looked just like Altair except his face was fuller, more round. His hair was long and pulled back by a red tie. His robes were expansive and masculine. What was most disconcerting was that he had the same scar that he and Desmond possessed.

"Ah!" Cesare called out, "They have arrived. Aqulius, my best gladiator. Leonardo Da Vinci, my genius." He stood up, as well as the woman and Ezio. Cesare gestured for Altair and Leonardo to come closer.

"These are the geniuses who made the weapon you are so fascinated with, young Ezio," Cesare said as he placed a hand on Ezio's shoulder. He turned towards his two slaves, "Leonardo, Aquilus, this is Ezio Auditore a son of the Senator Giovanni Auditore. A fine man that one." Then he gestured to the woman standing next to Ezio, who had her eyes on Altair the whole time.

"And this lovely lady here is Caterina Sforza, a dear friend of Ezio." The woman smiled, her red hair in intricate braids and her gown long, flowing, and purple. Her blue eyes held steady on Altair's face.

"By the Gods Ezio! This man shares your features as well. This must be a sign," Caterina exclaimed, delighted.

"It is strange, but also highly fascinating." Ezio agreed but then smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," his eyes were on Leonardo when he said that, his voice a deep rumble. Altair smirked.

"It is an honor to meet you both. I honestly believe that all credit should go to Aquilus," Leonardo said, his freckles standing out as he blushed.

"Nonsense," Altair said, "it was a joint effort. I could not have done it without you."

"Ah, modest men! An admirable trait. Come closer so that we may talk," Ezio said smiling. He then moved back to the chaises and sat down, along with Caterina and Cesare. "So tell me about this weapon and all other designs."

Ezio, Leonardo, and Altair talked for what seemed like forever. Cesare and Caterina interjected comments here and there, but the conversation was dominated by Ezio and Leonardo. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon when Ezio decided it was time that he leave. As they were preparing to leave, Cesare told him about a party he was throwing for a Magistrates son, Vieri and expressed his desires for Ezio to come.

An unreadable expression passed over Ezio's face before he said, "We shall see."

As they were making their way out, Caterina paused and turned around. "You know, I have always wanted to kiss the Champion Aquilus." Altair stiffened. He should have known.

Ezio gave an exasperated sigh. "Caterina," he said in warning. Cesare shook his head chuckling.

"No, no. I do not mind. Go on, have a taste." He gave Altair a look. A clear warning. Very well.

The woman stepped closer, her skin smelling of perfumes. Her soft lips touched his. His eyes flickered quickly to Malik. Malik's face was utterly blank, but the tick in his jaw gave him away. Altair wanted to smile. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth to her questing tongue. The kiss was absolutely horrid. Not because she was a horrible kisser, she was quite good, but because there was no passion.

He was relieved when she pulled away. She smirked at him and walked away. Ezio rolled his eyes and followed her, Cesare close on his heels to see them out.

"Well," Leonardo said, breaking the tension, "that was uncomfortable."

* * *

As Altair was getting ready to rest for the night, there was a knock on the door of his hut. He opened it only to be roughly pushed aside by an irate Malik.

"Why yes, you may come in. I was not getting ready to lay my head to rest," Altair said sarcastically to Malik's back. The man turned on him with fire in his eyes. He was roughly pushed against the door; his mouth opened in a cry of protest but was quickly covered soft lips in a bruising kiss.

Altair moaned and grabbed the man, his mouth opened to a demanding tongue. Altair felt a rush of heat as a hot tongue bushed against his own, coaxing it to fight back. Tongues fought for dominance in Altair's mouth. They swirled and twisted together until Altair was able to push his way into Malik's warm cavern. He's knees almost gave out when Malik sucked on his tongue. They pulled back to properly breath, only to dive back in again.

Malik sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and then bit it gently. He pulled back only to have Altair devour his mouth trying to memorize every nook and cranny. Oxygen forced them to pull back again and actually breathe. Altair noticed that both of his hands were buried in Malik's soft hair, while Malik had a nice hold on his right butt cheek.

Altair huffed a laugh, "What was all that for?" Malik starred at him through half-lidded eyes.

He smirked, "Only to teach you what a real kiss is like, Novice." Altair was under the impression that that was more of a title than just a word.

Altair feigned an insulted look, "Novice? Exactly who are you referring to as a novice?" Altair began to push Malik towards his bedding. "I will show you how much of a "novice" I am."

Malik pulled back further and twisted from his grip. He twirled around Altair and was in the threshold before Altair could figure out how he moved so quickly. He spun around just as the door was closing. He rushed towards the entrance and watch as Malik made his way across the training grounds.

"You have many lessons to go through before you reach that level, Novice," Malik threw over his shoulder.

Altair swore.

* * *

**Reviews guise?**


	7. Humiliatio

**A/N: Sorry guys for the long update. Was busy with essays and stuff. Finals week gais! This took me a minute to write. I hope you enjoy though. Please review! :D**

**HUMILIATIO**

**6**

Altair found that he despised these types of functions. He hated standing around in full regalia but no battle to be fought. Dominus requested that he be at this party alongside a healing Alex, Antionio, and Rauf. Alex looked as if he was dangerously close to falling asleep on his feet. Antionio kept shifting from one foot to the other, his eyes darting about the spacious and opulent room. Rauf was occupied by the sight of many skimpily clad female slaves providing food, drink, and entertainment. Guards flanked either side of them and were distributed around the room. They weren't the only gladiators here either.

Altair watched as Bartolomeo began to gesture widely with another Doctore. Then his eyes were caught by Malik, who stood near the wall where Cesare was conversing with a group of men. Leonardo stood next to Malik, looking around the room as if he was searching for someone. Altair watched as a woman with beautiful blond hair and red robes saddled up close to Cesare. If Altair wasn't mistaken, he believed that was Ceasare's sister, Lucrezia. She must have said something charming, for the men laughed in good naturedly.

He also found it disconcerting that majority of these people were glowing red. This set him on edge. What really had his hand twitching for his sword was that woman, Maria Thrope and her gladiator Robert De Sable. The boy, Vieri and his father Francesco gave them an enthusiastic welcoming. From what Altair could gather from his eavesdropping is that Maria Thrope was a prominent noble woman, inheriting her father's fortune after his untimely death. She was a widow and Francesco was looking to expand his house.

Then there was the matter of her gladiator. He was a bald man with a scar on his head. He had his light armor on, just like Altair. The man had a blank look upon his face as he followed his Domina around the room. Many noblemen and women admired his form, just as Altair and Alex were. The one thing that set Altair on edge about the man was the looks he would shoot Malik. Altair glared at the man. He blazed a blood red color for a moment.

"Is this the one that they call, Aqulius?"

"Yes brother. He is not only known for his fighting, but his knowledge of weaponry as well," answered a familiar voice. Altair turned to see Ezio Auditore smirking at him, with a slightly taller man next to him. They stepped closer.

"Aqulius, this is my brother Federico. He wanted to come to this party to see you for his self." Ezio said it as if he wouldn't have come to the party otherwise.

The man smiled and clapped a hand on Altair's shoulder. "I have heard much about you, from specters who witness your might and my brother after his visit." Federico then leered, "He also likes to babble about a certain blond man. A friend of yours perhaps?" Altair smirked while Ezio punched his brother in the shoulder.

"Ah! Ezio, Federico, you made it. I am glad you could come." Both men turned to find the boy, Vieri, making his way toward them with a swagger in his steps. "Cesare told me he extended his invitation to you. I am surprised you took it."

Federico smiled, "Jupiter himself could not keep us away from this party. So many _prominent_ figures are here, not to mention the gladiators. You know how I admire such men."

Vieri gave a tight smile, "Yes, well, I myself intend to get a gladiator. I am hoping to enter in the games soon."

"Ah, trying to make a name for yourself, I see. Be careful now. I hear this man," Federico put an arm around Altair's shoulder, "is quite the killer."

Vieri gave Altair a passing glance, "Yes, well a little bit of training and he shall do fine." Ezio planted his feet firmly to the ground and crossed his arms, smirk in place.

"Is your father buying you a gladiator for your birthday, Vieri?"

Vieri scowled, "Yes, what of it?"

Ezio just shrugged, "I find myself wondering how this would work. Your father does not own a ludus. How will he be trained?"

"That's where I will come in," someone interrupted. The three men standing around Altair jumped. He was not surprised though. They were so engrossed with their "battle" that they did not notice Cesare and the group behind him walking up.

Cesare smiled and patted Vieri on the back, "As a birthday gift, I decided to let whatever gladiator he chooses to train at my ludus."

Federico smiled his arm still around Altair's shoulder, "How kind of you Cesare. How fair you and your lovely sister this evening?"

Lucerzia looped her arm through her brother's, "Quite marvelous, thank you."

Francesco moved closer into the circle. "I am so glad that the Auditore brothers could make it. Your father could not?"

Ezio shook his head, "Apologies. My father could not make it. He had other arrangements."

Francesco nodded, "I see."

Altair also hated being in awkward situations. He could taste the malicious intent these people held for the brothers and their contempt for these _noblemen._ He felt as if he had to draw his sword and protect them. He looked beyond Cesare's shoulder and saw the look of open discomfort on Leonardo's face and the blank look on Malik's.

"The Spring celebrations are coming soon, it would be an honor to have him with us," said Maria as she sauntered her way towards the group, Robert beside her. Her hair was done up in an intricate braid, little ringlets framed her face, and her body was draped in a beautiful lilac gown. Altair found her beautiful. If circumstance were different, he would surely have loved to bed her. He did find it curious that the brothers tensed up even more. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Malik's blank expression was ruined by a scowl. Leonardo looked even more worried. He his glance kept darting between Robert and Malik.

Ezio gave the woman a pleasant smile, "We shall inform him of it. I do not believe we have solid plans for the celebration."

Cesare smiled, "Wonderful. May we all celebrate Ceres blessing." The brothers smiled.

Federico slipped his arm from around Altair's shoulder. "We shall be off then. We left your gifts with the others." He turned to Altair and smiled, "It was a pleasure." Altair dipped his head in respect. He then said his goodbyes to the group and dragged Ezio along with him.

It took all of his might not to laugh outright at the longing looks Ezio and Leonardo shot each other.

His attention was soon stolen by the hand on his chest. He looked down and found a delicate hand resting on his sternum. He followed the arm attached to the hand and found Maria staring at him with a smirk on his face.

"My, my, Cesare. I did not think you had such a fine specimen in your collection. I've heard stories of course," she purred. Cesare chuckled.

"It is always a surprised to see such barbaric men looking so noble. How disconcerting." Lucrezia sneered, as if the thought of such filth could look like a gem.

"His eyes are a wonder too. Such a beautiful gold. I wish I could wear them like jewels," Maria murmured.

Altair blinked. What a disturbing woman.

She abruptly pulled away and turn towards the two Borgia children. "The festivities will soon be over. I was hoping I could visit the House of Borgia and take a look at your gladiator."

Cesare and Lucrezia looked at each other, silently communicating. Cesare faced Maria and gave him his most charming smile, "Well of course. You have been away for a while. We could catch up."

Maria smiled and looked over Cesare's shoulder before saying, "Wonderful." She turned and gave Altair an assessing look. "Wonderful."

* * *

Once again Altair stands in his "skirt" as he likes to call it, but this time it's white. Cesare and Lucrezia entertained their guest in the room with the lace curtains. Maria lounged in a chaise eating grapes with Robert standing at her side. He had an utterly blank look upon his face. The Borgia children shared a slightly larger chaise, laughing at a tale Maria just told. Desmond strode in with a new vase of wine that was requested and poured them each a drink, before moving off to the side.

"Oh dear," Maria began, looking between Altair and Desmond, "they look terribly alike." Then she laughed, Lucrezia laughing along with her. Just then Malik strode in. He walked directly to Cesare to whisper something into his ear.

"A messenger? This late in the hour? Very well." Cesare stood up and quickly made his way to the entrance hall, Malik on his tail.

Once they left the room, Maria got up and sashayed her way to Altair. Altair watched as she slowly circled him. He felt her hand brush against his shoulders, the small of his back, and his thigh.

"Lucrezia, have you ever seen one of these beasts fuck?"

Lucrezia giggled, "Of course I have. Who has not, for those who own a ludus? Surely you have."

Maria came to a stop before Altair, staring into his eyes, "Of course I have." She then smiled and quickly made her way to Lucrezia's side, "But have you ever seen them fuck a man?"

Lucrezia gasped and laughed. "No! Have you? I have never thought of it."

Maria laughed, "Never thought of it? Lucrezia, surely you have been a little curious." Lucrezia looked down at her hands, her face flushed with wine and excitement.

"Well…perhaps a little bit."

Maria looked at Altair. He suddenly felt very cold all of a sudden.

At that moment Cesare and Malik reentered the room. Cesare gave a small confused smile, "What is this? Secrets between women?"

Maria smiled, "Not really. We just want some entertainment."

Cesare began walking back to his chaise. "Is that so?"

Lucrezia huffed a laugh, "She wants me to see two men fucking." Cesare's eyebrows flew upward and Malik, now standing beside Desmond, stiffened.

"Oh?"

"Yes. She wants Aquilus to fuck one of the other slaves, I just know it," she said, breaking out into giggles.

Cesare sat down, his sister making more room for him. He shrugged, "Very well. Which slave, unless…" his eyes darted towards the stony looking Robert. Maria moved back towards her seat, laughing, "Oh no. One of your slaves if you do not mind."

"Of course not," Lucrezia answered for him, ignoring the glare he sent his way, "which one?"

Maria looked up towards the ceiling as if she was actually deliberating, but Altair knew. He just _knew_. That look she had earlier, at Vieri's party. She looked right at Malik after Cesare accepted her into his house. There was recognition there and not the good kind.

"How about that one," Maria answered with a vicious smile. She was pointing right at Malik, his expression incredibly stony.

Lucrezia scoffed, "The cripple? I do not believe I would wish to see _that_." Altair felt a rush of hot anger surge through his body, replacing the icy lump in his stomach.

Maria waved her off, "Look at him. He is quite manly for someone who is half a man." Altair's jaws clenched. His fists were balled behind his back. He was absolutely and terribly angry. He could not even fathom the embarrassment and anger Malik must be feeling right now. "He is a bit _exotic_, yes?"

Lucrezia rolled her eyes, "Fine."

Cesare snapped his fingers, "Desmond, go find oil to ease the way. You two," he gestured between Altair and Malik, "undress."

They both slowly walked towards each other, undressing as they went. Altair undid his cloth and was instantly naked. Malik removed his robe, untied his toga with one pull of his hand, and removed his loincloth and sandals. Now they both stood on the soft foreign rug under their feet, between where Maria and the Borgias sat. They stared at each other. Altair noticed how they were both soft. He also noticed Malik's impressive size. His cock was nothing to laugh at, but neither was Malik's.

He stared at Malik's body in awe. The man's body was littered in scars. Some puckered, others smooth, and one looked like a burn. The man was moderately muscled; his pectorals were dusted with thick hair that tapered down to a trail, leading to his cock. His abdominals were defined and his legs were divine. His missing arm did not deter from his looks at all. It added to it. It made him seem even more like a warrior, with its ugly scarring. The sight Malik made sent a rush of arousal through him.

He heard Lucrezia gasp and Maria let loose a throaty chuckle.

Desmond entered the room and sat a small pot down by their feet, before rushing away.

"Now Aquilus," Maria began with a smile, "I want you to fuck the _Accipitridae_."

That comment gave Altair pause. He watched as a muscle tick in Malik's jaw and his blue eyes going darker. In his peripheral vision, he saw Cesare give Maria a pointed look, but she just continued to smile, sipping her wine.

Altair stepped forward, feeling vaguely sick. This is not how he envisioned their first time.

He brought up a hand and touched Malik. The one armed man was painfully tensed. He stepped in Malik's space and brought his lips close to Malik's ear. He knew they looked intimate in this position, vulnerable somehow.

"_Relax and trust me. The more tense you are the longer it will take_," he whispered in Arabic.

He shifts back a bit and helps lead Malik down onto the rug. He hovers above Malik's body, straddling his waist, and looks him in the eye.

"_Focus on me," _Altair murmured in Arabic, "_Do not look at them. Do not focus on them. Focus on me. Focus on what I make you feel. Focus on how I make you feel._"

Altair slowly moves down Malik's body, puffing hot air across his body. His hands slowly explored Malik's body, his fingers massaging tense muscles, trying to convince them to relax. He drags his nails down Malik's side to the outside of his thighs. He trailed his fingers into the inside of his thighs and coaxes them to pry apart. They slowly do so and he settles in between them.

He grabs each leg and throws them over his shoulders. He lips graze the inside of Malik's left thigh before his lips touched where legs meet groin. He puffed hot air onto Malik's cock and watched it twitched. He licked a light trail from the base of the cock to its tip. He felt the muscles in Malik's leg twitching and heard the man gasp.

He took the semi-hard penis into his mouth and made his way towards the base. He sucked lightly, his tongue rolling against the underside of Malik's cock. By the time he made it to the base, Malik was fully hard. He felt the tip hit the back of his neck. He swallowed and watched through half-lidded amber eyes as Malik's back arched and felt his legs tighten around his shoulders. Malik let out a choked moan.

Altair began to bob his head, alternately suckling the head and going towards the base. He blindly searched for the pot of oil Desmond provided for them. His fingers finally found it and he dipped three inside. He brought those slick digits to Malik's opening. As he sucked he slowly pushed his forefinger inside. He felt Malik tense, but his body soon relaxes and he pushed his cock further down Altair's throat.

He pushed his finger in deeper. He wiggled his finger and swirled around, pushing his finger against Malik's hot clenching channel. As the muscles relaxed, he slipped in a second finger. He builds up a rhythm between sucking Malik's cock and thrusting his fingers steadily inside of him.

Malik jerked and moaned as Altair fingers rubbed across his pleasure spot. He rubbed the little nub and quickly added in a third finger, stretching the one armed man even further. Altair pulled off of Malik's dick with an obscene pop. He heard darker man huff in frustration. He removed his fingers and sat up. Malik's legs fell from his shoulders to either side of his hips. He reached for the pot and scooped up a generous amount.

He lathered his own throbbing cock. He didn't even notice when he got so hard. His entire attention was on Malik. Malik's arm was above his head and his face was flushed. His chest heaved with his pants and his body glistened with sweat. His cock lay proudly against his stomach, only an inch away from his navel. His eyes were like burning coal. They were so dark that they were black and his stare was intense. He wrapped his hands around the front of Malik's thighs and dragged the man towards his waiting cock.

He leaned over the man, "_Let us give them something to remember_," he panted. Malik's eyes flashed and he moved his arm. He reached down and guided Altair's cock towards his entrance.

"_Do it_," he commanded.

Altair growled and roughly pushed into Malik. They both gasped at the sudden pressure and heat.

Altair paused. The darker man felt incredible around his cock. The thighs under his hands quivered and the clenching of Malik's walls began to relax. Altair pulled his hips back; only the tip of his dick was trapped by Malik's greedy hole. He snapped his hips forward. They both moaned. Altair pulled back and pushed roughly back in, this time hitting Malik's pleasure nub. Malik through his head back and moaned, the muscles in his neck stood out. Altair set a rough rhythm, mercilessly stabbing at that spot with a roll of his hips.

His hands moved down Malik's thighs to his hips. He grasps them and pulled Malik back onto his cock. He rolled his hips, grinding into Malik's ass. The one armed man moaned loudly as he rotated his cock inside of him. He rolled his hips again before pulling back and pushing in again. He began his harsh rhythm again. He felt Malik wrap his legs around his hips. He let go of Malik's hips and smacked his hands down on either side of Malik's head.

He continued to thrust into Malik, feeling heat begin to pull into his lower belly.

"_You feel this_," he hissed, "_You feel me? You feel me burning inside of you?_"

Malik groaned his eyes shut tight. He was breathing harshly. His breathing hitched with each snap of Altair's hips. His walls were tightly clamping around Altair.

"_Look at me_." Altair growled, "_Look into my eyes as I _fuck_ you."_

Malik's eyes snapped open. He whimpered, "_Fuck_!" Then he was coming. Coming without being touched. His back was arched and his legs were tight around Altair's waist.

Altair growled his release, the clenching and fluttering of Malik's walls too much. He moaned harshly as he pumped what felt like copious amounts of come into Malik's body.

He felt his softening cock slip from Malik's slick opening. He dazedly watched as come slowly leaked out the still clenching hole. He fell back on to his ass, breathing as if he just fought several men. Malik rolled to his side, looking so debauched.

Then there was light clapping. He looks to see Maria with slightly flushed cheeks clapping her hands. "What a show. The foreign words and rough fucking were exquisite. Right Lucrezia?"

The woman was flushed too and slightly out of breath. Her hand was in her robes. She laughed, "I should say. Never have I seen such an interesting sight." Both women laughed, Maria sounded more mocking.

Altair felt numb.

Malik stood on shaky legs. He quickly gathered his robes, not looking at anyone. Definitely not Altair. He slipped on his robes and held them closed with one hand. Desmond gathered up his shoes and they were both dismissed by Cesare. They beat a hasty retreat, not looking back once.

Altair vaguely heard Cesare dismiss him. He walked numbly between the guards, making their way steadily towards the ludus.


End file.
